


Bright and Shiny and New

by WeekendWriter



Series: Pacific Drabbles [3]
Category: Pacific Rim (2013)
Genre: Childhood Memories, Fluff, Light Angst, M/M, Matchmaker Herc back at it again, Post-Operation Pitfall (Pacific Rim), Shatterdome Shenanigans, The boys being children honestly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-06
Updated: 2016-10-06
Packaged: 2018-08-19 20:21:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,238
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8223610
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WeekendWriter/pseuds/WeekendWriter
Summary: Chuck Hansen missed out on many of the joys of childhood, and Raleigh decides to start fixing this the day a particular package arrives at the 'Dome.





	

Days like today were beautiful days, Raleigh decided. He’d woken up at a decent hour (sometime after 0400, which he considered sleeping in), had enjoyed a particularly delicious cup of tea with Mako before she had been whisked away by her new important position in the PPDC under Herc, and had the entire rest of the day ahead of him.

A kaiju-free day, thanks to the effectiveness of Operation Pitfall. Raleigh still could hardly believe their luck in pulling off such a suicide mission, especially after his experience with Knifehead. The ordeal that had ripped his brother from him also ripped away his belief that the world could be saved, that the bad could be stopped. The events leading up to Pitfall proved him wrong, although the loss of Marshall Pentacost was a reminder of how high the cost of that success was. 

Still, Raleigh couldn’t help but feel in a better mood than he could remember feeling in the past five years. He was still dealing with residual memory lapse (sue him, he’d spent time piloting a jager by himself _twice_ ) but even that wasn’t strong enough to put a damper on his improved mood. 

The day became even more beautiful just past lunchtime when the mail finally arrived. Any attempt at a postal service post the K-War was slow and delivered weekly at best, unless you had an in with a particularly _capable_ individual. Hannibal Chau had proved to be that individual, and, weeks after the operation, he was still sending regular gifts to the ‘Dome. Guy apparently felt somewhat bad that he’d made his riches off of Pentacost’s agreement that he could have access to all kaiju remains, considering the fact that Pentacost was now dead. So he regularly sent hard-to-find items to the remaining inhabitants of the ‘Dome. Some were addressed to Mako specifically (Chau had quickly learned her tea preferences, something that Raleigh was also currently reaping the benefits from), while many others packages were simply free game. 

Raleigh found himself grinning over a particularly large package sitting in the middle of the empty jaeger bay. He circled it slowly, as appreciative as a kid on Christmas, while Chuck scowled at him from across the large hall. 

The Hansen Jr. hadn’t exactly warmed up to him in the days following Pitfall. The kid was no longer downright hostile, but things hadn’t improved much. Raleigh found himself wondering if it was because of his heightened mood. The kid couldn’t possibly understand the place he’d been in after Knifehead. Looking on the brighter side of things lately had greatly helped his mood, and hell, even his sleep some nights. They not only survived; they stopped the damn apocalypse. So Raleigh would be dammed if he let the freckled brat bring his mood down. He could sulk if he wanted. Raleigh would take advantage of all that being alive had to offer. 

So he tugged the postage packing off of the box enthusiastically, pausing to grin once again at Chuck. He ignored the returned scowl and pried the box open after mild struggling.   
The edges of the wooden box fell apart to reveal a shiny, better-than-new red bicycle. 

Now Raleigh really felt like a kid on Christmas. 

His grin turned downright gleeful. He hadn’t seen a bike since his mom was alive. It was one of the many things that fell to the wayside once the K-War struggles really hit; he hadn’t even known that production had begun for them once again. He couldn’t remember exactly, but he was pretty sure Yancy had owned one just like this one. The thought stuck in his throat for only half a second to be replaced by the thought that if Chau had known somehow, it was a very thoughtful gift. It even had a bright, shiny new bell attached to the handlebars that Raleigh couldn’t help but ring. 

“Really, Ray?” Chuck sneered and tightened his arms further. 

Raleigh rolled his eyes, refusing to give in to the jerk’s negativity. “Come on, Chuck, when’s the last time you even saw one of these?”

Something dark crossed the kid’s face for a moment before he shoved off of the wall. “Whatever. It’s just a dumb bike, ya wanker.”

“Just a bike?!” To emphasize his point, Raleigh swung a leg over and braced his foot on one pedal. Chuck stopped short, watching the movement with just-too-long of a lingering gaze. “It’s beautiful. Almost even as beautiful as Gipsy.”

Chuck snorted. But there was something in his eyes that Raleigh couldn’t ignore. Something haunted, almost? A difficultly balanced amount of regret and contempt for the small metal thing. 

Just because the jerk was going to be, well, a jerk, didn’t mean Raleigh had to play his game. Even if being nice to the kid was becoming difficult as the weeks passed. He maneuvered off of the bike and offered, “I’ll let you ride it first, how’s that?”

The contempt flared higher. Raleigh realized it was masking underlying fear. Chuck somehow figured out how to cross his arms tighter, almost drawing in on himself.

“Fuck you, Ray. I’ve got better things to do with my time than baby shite.”

Raleigh watched the broad back disappear, wondering what the hell that was about.

 

 

“He never learned, you know.”

Jerking his head up so suddenly that he missed his bite of mashed potatoes, which fell sadly back down to the table, Raleigh glanced toward the low tone. Herc had apparently dropped into the seat beside him without him noticing (damn the lack of an attention span) and had remained silent until that sudden outburst. 

“What?” 

The new Marshall sighed. It was the kind of bone-deep, weary sigh that he usually reserved for anything involving his stubborn son, Raleigh had learned. He had to prompt once more before Herc finally repeated, “He never learned. How to ride a bike, I mean.”

“Oh.” Raleigh was surprised how small his voice sounded. 

“He’s been a moody little shit lately – well, more so than usual – and I couldn’t figure out why until I saw you with it earlier,” Herc continued grudgingly. Raleigh could tell it was difficult for the man to discuss his son’s issues with others, and Raleigh realized with a start that it was probably because Herc wanted _him_ to do something about the issue. “He had a rough childhood, that’s no secret, and the kaiju hit when he was so young that he never really had time for the stuff. That was one thing in particular. He…” Herc paused, and then must have figured that at this point in the sharing, he might as well go for broke because he added, “He wanted his mum to teach him, but of course that didn’t happen.”

_Oh_.

Herc finally faced him, staring him down intensely but not unkindly. “You get what I mean, son?”

Raleigh swallowed with difficulty and shook his head. He knew that the important parts of being a child had been shortened in Chuck’s life, and once he became consumed with his love of jaegers and fighting, he had forgotten to care enough to experience those things. Now that it had been considerable years since he was a kid, Chuck was probably far too embarrassed to learn. 

Why the hell was Herc talking to him about this? As far as he knew, Chuck was particularly not fond of him, even after Pitfall. 

If Herc sighed any louder, Raleigh was sure he’d blow the entire Shatterdome down around them. “He’d rather eat a sack of kaiju shit, his words not mine, than admit this, but he really looked up to you growing up. Thought you were quite the hero before…” Herc trailed off, but Raleigh could hear the ‘before Knifehead’ loud and clear. “Whatever he thought about that, you were still his hero. And now, fuck, mate, after Pitfall you’re even my hero. Under that fuck-all exterior, I know he still sees you in the same way. Otherwise, he wouldn’t go so far out of his way to hide it.”

Raleigh felt a mix of uncertainty, embarrassment, and even slight pride wash through him. Sure, he had plenty of fans in the glory days, but knowing for sure that Chuck had admired him took away some of the sting of the kid’s more recent animosity. 

“I think learning from you would be the next best thing.”

 

 

The looks. The looks were going to stick with him for probably the rest of his life. The mix of downright gobsmacked, confused, and even what looked like general concern for his sanity made the entire operation worth it, and Raleigh hadn’t even completed his mission yet. He pushed against the pedals, reveling in the turn of the gears and the pounding of the tires over the grates of the ‘Dome floor. It reminded him of piloting Gipsy. 

He was little more than a red blur zooming around the Shatterdome, weaving expertly between working personnel. 

The phrase ‘like riding a bike’ came to mind. He’d found it extremely easy to jump back into the saddle, so to speak, despite going without riding a bike for years. He could almost hear Yancy’s gleeful whooping and thought of the times when the older Beckett would circle laps around him, passing him with his longer legs and stockier muscle. The memories cheered him, and ignoring the inquisitive looks, he let out a whoop of his own and assaulted the bike’s bell for good measure. 

Several of the personnel laughed at his childish display, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. The jaeger bay proved to be a large enough space for shenanigans without disrupting them much, and the expert skidding halt that he slid the bike to even drew several cheers. 

He faux waved and bowed for the bystanders watching, then grinned and stood to allow his forearms to lean on the handlebars. 

“You’re a right bloody idiot, you know that?”

Raleigh found the trademark Hansen scowl off to one side of the jaeger bay, exactly where he had expected to find the kid. Referring to him as a kid seemed even more appropriate given the task at hand. “It’s called having fun, Chuck. You should try it sometime.”

Chuck huffed, and Raleigh noticed that there was a crease already starting to form between the strong brows. Far too early to be starting in someone his age, he thought. That realization fueled him even further in his task. “Come on, Chuck. It’s just a bike. It doesn’t bite.”

Suspicious eyes traveled over the metal frame as if the kid didn’t believe that it wouldn’t. “It’s childish.”

It was Raleigh’s turn to roll his eyes. “After everything we’ve done, all we’ve given, we haven’t earned the right to act childish every once in a while?”

Unless Raleigh was seeing things, the kid’s rough-and-tough exterior seemed to melt. “Makes you look like a fool, mate.”

“But a fool that’s having fun.”

Chuck considered his relaxed grin. He looked like he was contemplating what Raleigh was saying, and Raleigh held his breath for the impossible. What came out next completely floored him. Although at first, it was little more than a jumbled, Australian mumble.

“What was that, Chuck?”

The kid took a deep, pained breath. “—neverlearnedhow. Alright?” 

Raleigh certainly hadn’t been expecting Chuck to flat out admit to it. Maybe this process would be a lot more painless than he had originally expected. He also realized with a start that Chuck was growing more and more red and more and more angry the longer he stayed silent. Insecurity was probably causing him to defensively assume that Raleigh was judging him for it. 

_Oh, Chuck_.

“Well, you’re in luck, kid.” Raleigh even threw him a wink for good measure. “I learned from the best.”

“I repeat, you’re a bloody idiot. Just – shut up and teach me.”

“Patience, young Padiwan.”

“I swear to God, Ray, I’m already regretting this decision. You start quoting nerd at me and I will leave.”

 

 

Which is how Raleigh ended up sweaty with a strained back as the afternoon passed. The initial tantrums that had been thrown when Chuck found that this was something he wasn’t immediately good at had finally subsided (“what the fuck, Ray, I’m the best goddamn jaeger pilot the world’s ever had” – “I could fucking toss this thing if I wanted to” – “I WILL TOSS THIS FUCKING THING”) and molded into something more along the lines of determined acceptance that this was something he would have to work at.

Still, it was amusing to watch the kid stumble along and kiss the floor every once in a while. 

And Raleigh figured that if Chuck was muscling his way through bruised and scraped knees from the grated floor, he could put up with the strain that leaning far enough to guide the kid down the hall put on his back.

The hallway leading down toward LOCCENT had a downhill slope that Raleigh hoped would help the kid pick up enough speed to stay balanced. The downside; it was full of personnel running errands to and from LOCCENT.

He glanced at Chuck. The poor kid was staring at him from where he was straddling the bike, feet firmly planted, a look of panic on his defined features. 

“Ray, mate… There’s a lot of people here.”

Raleigh leaned down into the kid’s personal space, closer than he imagined he’d ever be able to get without punches being thrown. “Since when do you care what the hell anyone else thinks?” He meant the words to be teasing, but the poor kid looked a bit green. “Come on. You’re Chuck Fucking Hansen. Record setter for kaiju kills. You deserve a break, and something fun.” When he wasn’t sure that would work, he added, “You really gonna let a one-hundred-pound piece of junk beat you?”

That finally brought out the old determination. Chuck steeled his expression and glanced ahead, focusing on the doors of LOCCENT far down at the end of the hall. “Right. Let’s do this.”

He started off fast enough. Raleigh found himself having to jog to keep up beside Chuck. He was painfully aware of his hands; one was splayed over Chuck’s broad back, the other lightly grasped one side to keep him steady. Raleigh pushed the thought out of his mind and focused on making it down the hall. 

One glance at the kid’s face made the effort of the day worth it. The slight wind resistance was pushing the mildly-ginger floof of hair at the top of Chuck’s head back. His expression was more relaxed and open then Raleigh had ever seen. The stern brow was relaxed, and a smile was slowly taking a hold of full lips. The dimples even made a rare appearance, and although Raleigh was well aware he should be watching the hallway to make sure they didn’t hit anyone, he couldn’t tear his gaze from Chuck’s face. Like this, carefree and excited, Chuck looked more his age than the grumpy kid forced to grow up far too early in the face of a violent war. 

And he looked downright beautiful, too. 

The speed was finally stabilizing the kid. Chuck let out a whoop, and, to Raleigh’s amusement, gave the bell an experimental ring. Raleigh felt his hands slowly retreating from the kid’s muscled frame, and he pulled them back.

“Keep going, Chuck, don’t stop!”

The excited expression morphed instantly into one of concern. “Raleigh Beckett, you fucking wanker, don’t let go–” 

Raleigh slowed his pace with a laugh. “Go, Chuck!” 

Thank God, the kid kept going and, finally, kept his own balance. Raleigh could hear another whoop down the hall. His face was almost sore from how much he was grinning. The kid finally did it; he learned how to ride a bike. Something twisted in his chest, sharp as but more pleasant than a knife. It was fondness, Raleigh realized. The events of the day had revealed parts of Chuck’s personality that Raleigh was grateful to have experienced. He was insecure about the things in his life that he was painfully aware he’d missed out on, but for some reason had decided Raleigh could be trusted enough to share that insecurity with. 

His heart twisted again. Though this time, Raleigh was sure it was something more than just fondness. 

“RALEIGH I—HOW THE HELL DO I STOP—RAY—”

_Shit_. He hadn’t explained what was literally the most important step. 

Raleigh sprinted down the hall. His days since piloting hadn’t diminished his muscle, and he managed to catch up to Chuck before the kid ran into anyone or anything. 

“You have to hit the brakes—THE BRAKES, CHUCK—”

He realized trying to reach over Chuck’s arm was a mistake the second the kid jerked the handlebars. The bike wobbled and Chuck careened forward over them, taking Raleigh straight to the ground in a mess of limbs with an exaggerated “OOF—”

The bike’s wheels, now facing up toward the ceiling, spun to a gradual stop. Raleigh groaned and shifted from where he was sure he’d taken an elbow to the solar plexus. The back of his head wasn’t doing spectacular either, although his spine felt better now that it was stretched out and pressed against the floor. Chuck’s head rose from his chest and a close, startled expression met his. The two simply stared, stunned at the sudden turn of events, until Raleigh grinned. And then broke into loud laughter that shook Chuck. The kid returned a dimpled grin of his own until he, too, dissolved into laughter. 

Raleigh shook his head. He couldn’t believe what had happened. He also couldn’t believe the difference between a scowling Chuck and the laughing, relaxed Chuck above him currently. It was night and day. The corners of Chuck’s eyes were even crinkled, his grin wide, showing almost perfect teeth. The thought crossed his mind that he’d go through this much trouble for the kid every damn day if he got to witness that grin. 

And then Chuck’s face fell, regaining some of its seriousness. “Seriously, Ray?” The voice was almost borderline sneering. “How the _fuck_ could you forget to tell me about the brakes?”

Raleigh swallowed. _Oh no_. Things had been going so well. Sure, he was willing to bet he would remember Chuck’s deep, rumbling laugh for years, but he wasn’t willing to give up hearing it out loud yet. Now that he’d experienced what he was sure was the real Chuck, he didn’t want to go back to how things were yesterday. “Chuck, I'm sorry, I—”

The kid silenced him with a kiss. Raleigh froze in shock but managed to shift into it, reveling in the feeling of surprisingly soft lips with the slightest flutter of tongue. He could feel the thrill, could feel the kid’s excitement as if it was his own, the subtle pounding of both their hearts—

It was like the thrill of riding a bike down a steep hill. 

And as Raleigh leaned back to see Chuck’s grin above him again, the kid said, “Thanks, Raleigh. For that. I—Nobody’s ever really done anything like that for me, mate.”

Raleigh returned the grin, his hands moving of their own accord back to Chuck’s side and back like he was still keeping the kid steady. “Patience, young Padiwan. There’s so much more to teach you.”

Chuck rolled his eyes, but the dimples returned. “Ratbag.”


End file.
